Jeremiah: The Meeting
by Christine Boots Young
Summary: While he practices, she watches from above.


Jeremiah: The Meeting

In an empty warehouse, she watched him. For hours, she sat at her perch, just to hear his voice. She never felt this way about a young man before, nor did she want freedom from. She thought, many times, to go down from the rafters to say hello and ask his name, yet dared not to. She would spend her free time, there in the rafters, listening to him while he thought only the shadows knew his words.

The afternoon came that changed everything inside the warehouse. Cautiously, like many times before, she climbed the ladder down to the main floor. Somehow, she knocked over the old paint cans sitting beside the ladders.

"Who's there?" The young man yelled, not in hate, but surprise for he thought he was alone. She stood quietly against the bricked wall. Hoping he thought it was the wind or rats and would not explore her hiding place. His footsteps grew closer.

He saw the outline of a person, standing at the ladder. The figure was so still; he could see the curve of breast and length of hair. "I see you."

She closed her eyes as she stepped within the pool of light. Knowing once she opened her eyes, he would be there in front of her, not hundreds of feet away. She opened her eyes.

The sight of him, before her, took her breath away. He was of stocky build. He wore his blue buttoned down shirt open a little, exposing the dark chest hair. His jeans were loose in the legs, but tight everywhere else. His hair, slicked back from a baseball cap, was dye-in blond highlight on top dark brown hair. He had a baby face with the exception of his mustache and go-tee.

"Who are you?" The young man stepped closer. He looked at her, wondering who she was and how long she had been there.

"My name is Tabitha Rone." She calmly said, twisting her hands together. He had to smile, if she only knew how nervous he was and didn't know why.

"Jeremiah Nash." He extended his hand. Breathing, she took his hand, meaning to shake; they stood there, holding the other's hand. "How long have you been up there? Were you listening to me?"

Tabitha dropped his hand. She looked from his hazel eyes to the gray floor. "I have been coming here for years. This is my place to find myself. I know all your lines; what is your character's name?" She returned her eyes to his.

He heard her words, but not listening to her. With his eyes, he burnt her features into his memory. Her honey brown hair curled down her back to her waist. Her form fitted, button down crimson shirt gave a mysterious glow to her sea green eyes. The top two buttons were unbuttoned, exposing her cleavage. Her jeans, long and flared covered her feet.

"Mmm, Louis. My character's name is Louis. I found this warehouse to be the perfect place to practice. It's quiet and next to the theatre." Jeremiah said trying to hide the fact he wasn't listening. "The last show is tonight. I would love for you to come."

"Oh, you're only saying that to be sweet and to get into my pants." Tabitha said, wickedly and turned away. Jeremiah rushed to her and gently caught her arm.

"I want you to see the show, to see the rest of the show." Jeremiah paused to gather her into his arms. "If our clothes happen to be in a pile by the bed, then so be it."

"A live production and sex? Sounds like a great night to me. I accept your offer."

Jeremiah smiled. "The show starts at seven. I will have a ticket waiting for you at the box office."

"Good. After the show, I will meet you here." Tabitha said, turning away from Jeremiah. As she walked, she shawl-shad her hips. Always leave them wanting more and Jeremiah wanted more of her.

Later that night, at Jeremiah's apartment

"So, are you going to tell me about yourself?" Jeremiah asked while pouring Tabitha another glass of red wine. He watched her, swirling the wine in her glass before sipping. Tabitha smiled at him, but her smile held secrets.

After the curtains fell on the final bow, Jeremiah rushed to the dressing room. He wanted to get out of his make-up and costume, get back into his own clothes, and return to the warehouse. The whole process only took a half hour, but it seemed like hours to him. He was able to dodge the rest of the actors as he made a beeline to the exit. Just like she promised, Tabitha was at the warehouse.

Now, Jeremiah and Tabitha were sitting on his overstuff couch drinking red wine and talking. It was well pass midnight and they still had their clothes on. They had been talking about hobbies, interests, and general topics. Jeremiah waited to see if Tabitha was going to talk about herself, she never did. Finally he asked.

"I don't like talking about myself." Tabitha said, sipping more wine. She looked away, hiding her face with her hair. Jeremiah reached out to touch her cheek. She turned back to him.

He moved closer to her. Taking the wineglass from her, Jeremiah placed both glasses on the coffee table. For some reason, he needed to be close to her. Jeremiah gazed questionably into her eyes. No tales could be told through them. Her eyes seemed to be ageless mirrors reflecting his own hazel eyes.

"It's a deep secret, older than you and I." Jeremiah whispered. "It has entwined with your life. It has become your life. Am I right?" He started tracing her cheek with his strong fingers.

Tabitha leaned into his hand. "You only scratch the surface of my existence. It is hard of explain."

Jeremiah kissed her forehead, not knowing why. He just wanted to taste her flesh. "You make it sound like you're old." Jeremiah kissed her cheek, slowly moving down to her throat.

"Please Jeremiah." Tabitha began, slipping her hands beneath his shirt. While she traced the muscles of his chest, Jeremiah began to unbutton her shirt. Licking the valley between her breasts, he returned to her neck. Tabitha pushed his head closer to her, causing the shoulder of her shirt to slip off, exposing the black lacy bra beneath.

"We can't!" Tabitha pushed him away. She stood, turning from him, breathing heavy and shaking. Jeremiah took a moment to gain his balance. He looked at her back, watching her shake.

"Tabitha?" He went to her. Turning her around, he saw that she had her hands covered her face. He tried to move her hands, but her arms were strong, stronger than his.

"If…" she said, shaky. "I show you why I can't be with you, even though I really want to. Will you promise not to freaked out and scream?" Jeremiah whispered that he would not. Slowly, Tabitha allowed her hands to fall away from her face.

"I thought your eyes were green." The only words Jeremiah could say. Now, two crimson pools took the place of her cool green puddles. Displayed by the ruby red lipstick she wore, a pair of pearl white fangs glowed in the light.

"I'm a vampire, Jeremiah. A bloodsucker. The undead. Why aren't you screaming?" She asked, crossing her arms. He enclosed her body with his arms. She stood there, unknowing what to do. He was a mortal who did not run from living death. She placed her hands on his chest. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of his body. Tabitha understood why he didn't freak out, why death wasn't an issue.

"Death should not be feared." Jeremiah said. "Beside I have always found the supernatural world interesting." She laid her head on his chest, allowing her eyes to turn back to green and her fangs to sink back into her gums.

Jeremiah move to lay down on the couch. Taking Tabitha with him, she settled on top of him. Her soft curves molded perfectly with the hard lines of his strong body. She straddled his hip with her legs.

Jeremiah rose up and cupped her face. "I want to kiss you." He whispered. She allowed him to capture her lips with his own. Mouth opened, they kissed with their tongues twisting and turning. Tabitha let her fangs slid back down. Gently raking his tongue, then and dragged then on his bottom lip. She looked down at him. He was smiling as he kissed her again.

The End …Not Really


End file.
